A Murdering Angel: Rosalie's Story
by LoveWillFindYou
Summary: And with those to stand as his dying words, I snapped his neck. This is Rosalie's back story about her revenge on Royce King, as explained briefly in Eclipse! I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing. As always, please R/R. Thanks so much


**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! This is my version of Rosalie's revenge on Royce King and his accomplices, based on what she told Bella on that fateful night in Eclipse. I know the concept is a little bit overdone and you've probably heard it before, but I tried to adopt a fresh take to the story. And I just couldn't resist writing it – the story had been calling my name for way to long. As always, please review and rate, or email me at . I am literally that girl who gets so excited every time she gets a hit or a review! Thanks so much, I really hope you enjoy this one and check out my other fanfics!!

**-LoveWillFindYou**

The bride's dress is the most important element in a wedding – after all, the day is for the bride and her only. I remember how my mother and I had prattled on about my dress for weeks, gushing over its flattering silhouette and the high-quality silk that slid down my figure like a waterfall. My favorite part was the veil, which was made up of an elaborate and delicate, floral-patterned lace that swept the floor when I moved. I remember so clearly how excellent it had looked on me, highlighting just how gold my hair really was, just how ideally blue my eyes really were. It left nothing to the imagination – it was perfect.

Here I stood, staring back at my reflection. With my newly paled skin and perfected features, the dress had never looked more beautiful, I never appeared more angelic. Although, that was all about to change.

At first, I thought it may have been a problem tracking down Royce. He wasn't foolish enough to stay in the same place. Just like everyone else in Rochester, he must have heard the rumors and _known_ just what was coming for him. But it had only taken a little bit of prompting to find him. Royce had no idea just how utterly disloyal his "friends" really were, how the mere mention of death had caused them to easily give up Royce's new location in a flurry of words. Of course, I had broken my promise and killed them anyway - painfully, too. But really, I was doing society a favor. Never again would someone suffer under their hands, as I had.

Bringing myself back to reality, I glanced out the window to my left. The moon was full and hanging high in the darkened sky. But tonight, it was a haunting orange in shade, almost gold. Well, that would be ironic. Just as my eyes were beginning to reach the golden tint of a Cullen, they would be returning to a glowing ruby. What a shame.

From where I stood on the third floor, I could hear Carlisle, Esme, and Edward down stairs, speaking quietly and urgently at the same time.

"It would be suspicious," Carlisle supposed, "To live in such a grand home while the rest of Rochester, the rest of the country for that matter, suffers. Did you hear how they're calling it the depression now? Never in all my years… "His thoughts trailed off, heavy with sympathy for the human population.

"I agree, Carlisle," Edward said in his obnoxiously arrogant tone – just the sound of his voice caused my muscles to tense, "But where would we go?"

"There is always Alaska," Esme suggested casually, though not seeming interested in returning to her former home.

"It _has_ been too long since we've seen Tanya and her sisters," Carlisle mused, "And a change in scenery might do us some good. Not to mention how the deaths of those boys in town keep leading back to us. Perhaps Alaska is just what we need?"

"Ah, penguins," Edward groaned. Carlisle and Esme laughed, and even Edward himself had to join in.

And then I slipped out of the window, landing with a soft thud on the spongy earth below my stilettos. I entered the dense forest and with a deep breath, I took off running towards town. Thankfully, it was a quiet Tuesday night in Rochester, all shops and even the pubs already closed down for the night. I continued to run in the blackness, darting into an alley and hearing the words of my last victim replaying in my mind, disclosing the location of my enemy. As I ran, my most vivid human memory replayed over and over again in my mind – the one memory I could remember with full clarity was also the one I wished to escape the most. The sound of brass buttons hitting being ripped from their stitches, falling to the pavement. The racket of their chuckles as they pulled my hair from my scalp and staggered away while I prayed for death to find me. Even now, I shuddered, but could not leave the image behind me.

I was still getting used to the speed that came with being a vampire, so I was surprised when I suddenly found myself at Royce's stone hideout – a house so grand it appeared to be castle. Its high windows were dim, thick drapes pushed over the glass protectively. I laughed out loud, it emerged from my lips a menacing cackle. I noticed the reinforced doors and the new, wrought-iron gate looming overhead, defending the home. As if any of these human attempts could stop me.

I dashed to the backside of the house, where a bulky, wooden door stood. Standing on either side of the door were too large, fleshy men, dressed in black from head to toe. Their expressions were identical, shocked but with a faint twinkle in their eyes.

"Hello, Gentlemen," I said politely, approaching both of them and assaulted with the scent of their blood. I tried not to breathe just yet. How Carlisle refrained from this ever day at the hospital, I would never understand.

"Ma'am," They greeted me at the same time, eyes suddenly focused on the ground.

"I'm going to need you two to move out of the way. Mr. King has sent for me," I lied smoothly, shining a winning smile in their direction.

"Sorry, miss, we cannot allow that. Mr. King gave specific orders not to let anyone in," the first spoke with an undertone of sadness to his voice, as though he was wished he could let me in. I raised my eyebrow, forging curiosity.

"That is regretful," I tried to infuse my tone with the proper amount of regret, but failed miserably, "I'm sorry, gentlemen. I had only the intentions to kill the guilty. Oh, well." I walked up the first, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and snapped his neck in half. The second started to run, but I quickly caught up with him and repeated the same action. Throughout the entire process, I was very careful not to soil my gown. Not just yet.

Finally, the door to Royce was left unguarded. I didn't take much to kick the door down, although a human surely could not have done it. And yet, I managed with a pair of four inch stilettos on.

Inside, I found Royce cowering in the corner. I waited for the burn to return to my throat as I approached the blood, but I found none. Instead, an exceedingly unpleasant smell reached my nose, a scent so fetid I was left stunned. His blood actually smelled revolting to me! I wrinkled my nose in pure disgust, and in the most un-lady like fashion. The only scents I could detect were the faint smell of mold, overpowered by heavy liquor. My eyes zeroed in on the half-empty bottle of brandy in his hand, sloshing with each of Royce's drunken movements

"R-Ro-Rose, is that you?" Royce stuttered, blinking in the ginger-tinted moonlight. I didn't answer him, but the pig continued. His eyes were half-crazed as he took me in, and he blinked several times as if to confirm he was awake. Usually, I would have been flattered.

"Rosie, I am so sorry. You know I love you. I thought you died – I was miserable for weeks afterwards," Royce sputtered suddenly, "I went to your funereal, and it was the hardest thing I've ever experienced. I missed you so much. We are meant to be, you know that," Royce's voice shook as he spoke, but with each word, I could see him trying to collect himself and project a calm façade, made difficult by the alcohol in his system, "You know how foolish I get when I drink. You know I'm not like that. You know the real me, Rosalie, remember?" He said, gallingly effusive now. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh Roy, I know you mean it. That's why I've come for you," I smiled, letting my venom-coated do their job in scaring him.

"Y-You have? I thought you were angry. After I heard about my friends…I thought you were going to send a hit man to kill me," He chuckled nervously.

"I thought you knew me better than that," I scolded teasingly, inching closer as I spoke, "I don't need a hit man to do my dirty work. I can do it myself!"

"What? Rose? "

"Royce, do you like this dress?" I spun in a circle for him, smiling deviously as I twirled, "I bought it just with you in mind. And the jewels?" I touched the heavy diamonds at the base of neck, "I hope you like it – you _did_ pay for it, after all. And it's the last memory you will have. Lucky, lucky, you." My words taunted Royce, and the man I had once fooled myself into loving would not take something like this without a fight. Motivated by his pride and the alcohol coursing through his veins, his countenance grew livid. He threw back another large gulp of his potable. If only the King family could see him now, if only all of Rochester could see their glorified prince. Could Royce be any more opprobrious?

Royce rose to his feet, knees shaking, speech slurred, "How exactly do you plan on doing that, Mrs. King? Hmm? I see you've come alone. How are you going to kill me? You clearly don't have a gun hiding in that bodice of yours," The sorry excuse for a man took in my current state once more, and subconsciously licked his lips. I was tempted to slap him across his cheek, but pulled my hand back and remembered my mission. A slap would be nothing to him once I was through.

"I am not Mrs. King," I stated flatly, "In fact, it's Rosalie Cullen now. I've met a delightful man called Edward who is everything I have ever dreamed about – everything you wish you could be," I lied casually.

"Royce, here again I thought you knew me. I don't need weapons," I continued, and skidded to a stop mere inches from him and took his neck between my hands. His lips parted and his rolled back in his head, then eyes closed.

"You never told me just how you were going to kill me," He managed to croak, eyes opening again. He was using the same patronizing tone he had used many times before, although I had been blinded by love and unable to see it. My hold on his neck tightened against his liquid courage.

"As I said Royce," Saying his name caused me physical pain deep in my chest, "I don't need weapons. As you may be too pathetically stupid to see, I'm not the pitiful human I once – the pitiful human you _still are._ I am something much more, something you could never imagine, even in your worst nightmares."

I realized now that I was becoming truly nefarious, yet I felt no feeling of remorse or guilt in my entire body. In fact, I was overwhelming feeling of sheer eudemonia.

"I admit I was rather wicked with the others. I tortured them a bit before I killed them," I raised one eyebrow at him, neck still clutched between my fingers, "Oh well. I guess it would be only fair, seeing as what I am about to do to you. Any final words, Royce? No, never mind." With that, I flung him across the room, his bottle of brandy hitting the will and clattering to the ground in a million tiny shards. His body slumped against the wall, clinging to consciousness.

"Rose," he mumbled drunkenly – I was positive the only reason I could decipher his slur of words was because of my particularly acute, "I never loved you. But that Vera – she was something else." His lips pulled away in a sickening smirk, as he had recognized my weakness.

And with those to stand as his dying words, I snapped his neck.


End file.
